


know what you're asking for

by wakeupnew



Series: Clone Wars campaign [3]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Other, Team as Family, everybody's queer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-24 22:41:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22125640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wakeupnew/pseuds/wakeupnew
Summary: The squad is currently taking turns guarding a malevolent talking box in the cargo bay, which they took from a collapsing Sith temple, with three Force users onboard. Knight Tai has been poisoned and put through the wringer — Boomer’s concern ratchets up every time they see how drawn and pinched she looks — and Dax is tearing his hair out trying to figure out how to help her. They have no idea what’s happening in the war outside the Unknown Regions.It's been a weird couple of weeks.
Series: Clone Wars campaign [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1592614
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	know what you're asking for

**Author's Note:**

> My tabletop group was deeply invested in our Clone Wars campaign and we wrote a lot of fic; the working title for this one was NOT EVERYTHING IS SAD, so it's less sad than the post-Order 66 fics we wrote?? Everything in the last two sections is dialogue pulled directly from a session, to the best of my memory. Credit where credit is due: fellow players [ryfkah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryfkah), [sandrylene](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sandrylene), [varadia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/varadia), [genarti](https://archiveofourown.org/users/genarti), and our intrepid Jedi, GM [jothra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jothra). Also: [a character primer](https://wakeupnew.tumblr.com/post/190072369169/so-my-tabletop-group-played-a-clone-wars-campaign). Title from "Glitter & Gold" by Barns Courtney.

“Subtle,” says the emotionless voice of Cog’s wrist comm vocoder. Boomer knows it isn’t mechanically possible, that tone isn’t built into the subroutines, but it somehow sounds dry.

Boomer turns back from craning their neck to appreciatively watch their hired ship's attractive Nautolan captain leave the cockpit, and does not crack up laughing in Cog’s face even though, they feel, he deserves a good laugh. 

“Not trying to be,” Boomer says cheerfully through a mouthful of dried choya bread. “I’ve been flirting with em since Dantooine.”

The squad is currently taking turns guarding a malevolent talking box in the cargo bay, which they took from a collapsing Sith temple, with three Force users onboard. Knight Tai has been poisoned and put through the wringer — Boomer’s concern ratchets up every time they see how drawn and pinched she looks — and Dax is tearing his hair out trying to figure out how to help her. They have no idea what’s happening in the war outside the Unknown Regions.

Captain Leeadra Rennick is sharp, funny, hot, delightfully blunt, and, as far as Boomer can tell, attracted to them, so Boomer’s going to steal a few minutes here and there to flirt. They’ve always taken time for the good moments, when they can, no matter how dark things seem to be getting. You’ll go spaced otherwise.

Cog tosses them a flat look (what he has to be dubious about, Boomer doesn’t know; Cog has been a reluctant witness to more of their flirting than anyone, by dint of being here in the cockpit as Leeadra’s co-pilot), and taps into his wrist comm again. “You were professional on Dantooine,” he points out.

“I appreciate good datawork compliance,” says Boomer, and from the face Cog makes, (1) Boomer has telegraphed the true nature of their feelings on just how neatly Leeadra’s forms had been completed, and (2) Cog has a great many regrets.

* * *

Boomer takes their shifts watching the Sith holocron. It just sits in the cargo bay, being an inanimate object; Mr. Creepy hasn’t said a word since the temple. At least once a day, Boomer thinks longingly of the moment when they’d surprised themself with how seriously they’d considered kicking the box into the temple’s grand, crumbling front hall just before Boomer blew up the entrance. Missed opportunities. 

They maintain their armor and blaster and fiddle with an idea for a long-delay detonator. They shoot the breeze with their squadmates and talk with Knight Tai. They keep a concerned eye on Knight Tai, whose condition continues not to improve. 

This is the most downtime at once Boomer has had in their entire life. It might be more downtime than they’ve had in the rest of their life put together.

They take apart old scarves for the yarn and knit with H1F1; the droid's technique is really coming along. They experiment with ration packs to see if they can create something that doesn’t taste like the underside of a worn-out boot (they cannot). Target has gotten surprisingly into the hydroponics bay, and Boomer spends a few hours one day getting the full tour.

They’re still picking the odd leaf out of their hair when they step into the cockpit.

As always, Leeadra looks like ey was born to be in that pilot’s seat, curled up comfortably in front of the instruments panel. Ey glances back over eir shoulder at Boomer. “No evil box?” Ey makes the complicated hand signal ey has started making every time ey says ‘evil box.’ Boomer thinks it’s some kind of warding gesture. It seems appropriate.

“It’s Cog’s shift on watch now,” Boomer says. They lean on the back of the empty co-pilot’s seat. There’s no sign of Cog, obviously, or of Bash and his language-learning institute today — Leeadra’s on eir own. “Where’s your student, Captain?”

“Which?” Leeadra asks, with a smile that shows eir sharp teeth.

“The enthusiastic one you’re teaching Ryl to,” says Boomer. “You’re going to have to try a lot harder to catch Target in here again.”

“I gave Target good life advice!” ey insists. “And Bash—” Ey shrugs expressively; ey doesn’t know where Bash is, clearly.

Boomer glances at the viewscreen. They’re still in hyperspace, the stars a neat series of white lines streaking past. Most of Leeadra’s wayfinding and all of eir more complicated flight maneuvers happen outside of lightspeed, so Boomer probably won’t be in eir hair, here. Eir headtails. “How do you feel about taking on a new student?”

Leeadra turns more fully toward them. Ey gives a thoughtful hum that somehow also manages to be arch, as ey slowly looks Boomer up and down. “What you wanna know?”

They drop into the co-pilot’s seat. “I don’t know much Ryl.”

Ey shoots them a weird look. “You _too_?” ey says, sounding a little exasperated. 

“Bash’s interest is pretty academic,” Boomer says. “Mine is practical.”

Leeadra pauses, and tilts eir head. “Oh?” 

“I’m more of a hands-on learner,” they say, warmly.

Amusement blooms across Leeadra’s face. Eir headtails are slowly twisting. “Hmm,” ey says. Ey blatantly checks Boomer out. “Nice hands. Maybe.”

Boomer leans in and says, “Please teach me bad words,” and Leeadra laughs.

“I teach,” ey promises brightly. “Very bad!” Ey reaches out and pats Boomer’s knee.

They both look at the hand on Boomer’s leg.

* * *

Things escalate quickly.

* * *

Leeadra gallantly walks Boomer to the door of eir quarters. It’s all of a meter from the bunk but it takes a solid 20 minutes for the two of them to cross it, primarily because they’re still making out and every time Boomer gets the top of their bodysuit on, Leeadra starts insistently peeling it back off them again.

Most of the ship’s inhabitants have been keeping fairly regular hours, holocron-guarding and time passing strangely in the Unknown Regions be damned. It’s the middle of a long off shift; most people will be asleep. The ship is silent besides the hum of the engines, their low voices, and the occasional creak of metal and transparisteel.

Boomer leans in the doorway for a couple of goodnight kisses. Leeadra kisses back, hand wound insistently in Boomer’s bodysuit, but ey finally seems, with some regret, to be leaving it on their body. Ey nips at Boomer’s lower lip before letting go, and then studies them thoughtfully, black eyes unblinking.

“Always talking.” Leeadra gestures between Boomer and emself. “But wait for now for—?” The last word is unfamiliar, but the hand gesture is very explicit.

“I wasn’t in a hurry, if you weren’t. Sometimes it’s fun to flirt for a while,” Boomer says, grinning. They lean in and kiss the cool corner of Leeadra’s blue mouth, hand on eir waist. “And that _was_ fun.”

Wrapped in a delightfully scandalous robe and not much else, headtails in disarray, Leeadra makes an amused, but not disagreeing, sound.

Boomer hadn’t been entirely certain, at first, whether Leeadra’s frank appreciation was conveying genuine interest in exploring physiologies together, or if that was just how ey liked to communicate.

It’s both, they know now; it is definitely very much both.

“Was good,” Leeadra allows.

They raise their eyebrows. “Just good?”

Ey steps in even closer, hips swaying. “Could be better.”

“Practice makes perfect,” suggests Boomer. 

“Very confident,” Leeadra purrs with a dubious stare, and Boomer gives a crack of laughter as Leeadra peels their bodysuit top over their head again and uses their trapped arms to drag them back inside.

* * *

The two of them keep private matters confined to the captain’s quarters, but they’re apparently not terribly discreet in the way they talk to each other. Boomer isn’t trying to be, apart from continuing to be disciplined while carrying out more official parts of their duties, which are few and far between on a passenger ship this far out in the Unknown Regions. 

Cog has already pre-programmed his wrist comm with a new phrase, which he makes liberal use of whenever Boomer turns up while there are two pilots in the cockpit: Get out. 

Boomer has been blithely disregarding those two long-suffering words, delivered through a vocoder or in signs alike, since they first befriended Cog against his will, so it doesn’t get Cog terribly far. 

Bash, unsurprisingly considering that he too has been present in the cockpit for a fair amount of the journey and also considering that he’s Bash, apparently had an idea things were heading this way. Dax is sharing quarters with Boomer and must notice (probably; you never know, with Dax) that Boomer occasionally vanishes for a while and then comes back to crash.

Knight Tai’s brow ridges lower forebodingly when she finds Boomer leaning close with Leeadra over a star chart in the cockpit. Later, she catches Boomer alone in the corridor, and she says intently, “ _Be responsible._ ”

Boomer genuinely does not know what she’s talking about — feelings? prophylactics?? — but she clearly feels strongly about this and Boomer is being responsible in every potential capacity they can think of at a split second’s notice, so they say, “Always am” with a breezy salute. 

Knight Tai looks physically pained.

* * *

And then finally there’s Target, a week later.

Leeadra winks at Boomer on eir way to go take over the pilot’s seat from Cog, and reaches across the entire table to steal food off Boomer’s plate as ey goes. It is, if there is such a thing, a full-contact lean, complete with suggestive slithering, and it happens directly under Target’s nose.

“Wait,” Target says, turning his whole body to watch Leeadra leave the galley, then turning back to Boomer. Target’s eyebrows furrow and then shoot up. “Is … that a thing that’s happening??”

Boomer doesn’t laugh, but it’s a near thing. “Yep,” they say.

Target has a very expressive bewildered face.

They do laugh this time. “You must’ve noticed you haven’t been trapped in the cockpit to get advice in a while.”

“I thought maybe ey ran out of advice?” Target says dubiously.

Definitely not. 

“You’re welcome,” Boomer says, bright with mischief, pointing at themself broadly with their mug of terrible instant caf. “Taking one for the team.” Distracting with great enthusiasm.

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, you’re a hero.”

“I’m a regular hero of the Republic,” Boomer agrees. They set down their mug, interlace their fingers behind their head, and comfortably sprawl in their chair. “I’m literally on the recruiting poster.”

“I hate so much about this conversation,” says Target.

* * *

When the squad disembarks at Selvaris, Leeadra has a new, violently purple scarf that matches nothing ey owns.


End file.
